Tangled in this forest of shame.
Snared in the hunters trap I laid.
Limping, lost, and wrecked by my own self.
I trusted once.
I turned my gaze to the trumpet sound of their victory.
Deafened myself as I drew too near to feel vibrations of their hope.
There was no hope. Just voluminous hate sound.
And I am deafened to silence.
With just ringing in my ears.
Whistle of pain that courses to my heart.
If a tree fell I wouldn’t hear.
I wonder am I here at all.
Branches crash aroun